


Kindred Spirits

by KindListener



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Rambo Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27602867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindListener/pseuds/KindListener
Summary: Status:Unfinished.For:Ash (my beautiful other half)Pairing(s):John Rambo x Cheyenne (OC)Warnings:None.Summary:John assists Nightwolf's student, Cheyenne, from the Void so the Matokan warrior ensures he returns the favour in kind. (Written for Rambo's arrival today!!)
Relationships: John Rambo/Original Character
Kudos: 5
Collections: Hyperfixation Collection





	Kindred Spirits

"So you are one of us?" Cheyenne asks curiously, cocking his head as he unties his dark brown hair, letting it hang loose around his shoulders.  
"On my father's side, yeah." The soldier looks more than a little perturbed in the Sky Temple. Fujin had lended Nightwolf a couple of rooms in which to recuperate so Cheyenne and John sit on either side of the unfamiliar tea table, sipping sweet chai tea.  
"It's nice to see one of our own in the wild." The younger warrior beams, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. "Thank you for -- umm... -- saving us. Not many would've taken the risk."  
"I'd never leave anyone behind." The soldier nods resolutely and Cheyenne smiles a little wider.  
"Even more reason to find you impressive."

They both reach for the teapot, strong fingers brushing over the back of the Matokan's hand as he wraps his own around the handle. There's a beat of silence as dark brown eyes meet emerald.  
"How long were you in there?" He asks, eventually breaking the silence as Cheyenne fills their cups.  
"I never thought I'd see the sun again..." The younger man replies honestly and John nods. He only knows the wounds of war so well.  
"If you need support, I'm there." He states, dark eyes level as the offer sends a spark of heat down Cheyenne's spine. His soft, plump lips part as he goes to say something before thinking on it and closing his mouth. Too late, though. John noticed. "What?" He asks, voice nearly a whisper.  
"Would you...touch me again?" The younger man asks, green eyes desperate. The Matokan's hand lies palm-up on the tea table, wrist offered, caramel-toned skin inviting.

After a moment of silence, John walks his fingers up the inside of Cheyenne's wrist, feeling his pulse leap under the contact. The soldier's fingers are strong and rough, hands curious but touch tender. Scars, burns, bruises and scratches litter the younger man's golden skin as John continues to explore, his other hand moving to cup the Matokan's arm.  
"Ogichidaa... You can do more than touch." The lines of Cheyenne's body are smooth and sure, the curve of his spine accented by the ink along his back. Vertebrae tattooed all along his back, the top of the tattoo shielded by his long, dark hair. He stands, reluctantly shying away from the touch, as he stretches, his muscles growing taut under the skin. His flesh is a rosy brown, bruises and scars painted along his body, his tight, blue jeans barely hiding anything from John's roaming gaze as he sighs exhaustedly. John stands, a head above Cheyenne, and reaches for the Matokan's hand again, bringing it up to his lips. Dry but soft lips ghost across the inside of the younger man's wrist and he shivers, murmuring a curse under his breath.  
"Sounds like you were in there longer than you're letting on."

Exploring the older man's body, Cheyenne gently draws his fingers across John's broad shoulders, feeling the strength within. The soldier sighs heavily, finding his own body to be sensitive and reacting easily to the Matokan's soft touches. Long, delicate fingers thread through John's soft, feathery hair, dark locks falling between his fingers. John nearly purrs, his headband coming loose as Cheyenne pulls nearer, soft lips so tantalisingly close. He wants to kiss them so desperately but his manners demand he stay still, allowing the younger man to make the first move, his lips claiming John's chastely as he whines. The soldier doesn't want to hold back, trailing his fingers down the ink that lines Cheyenne's spine. The softness of the gesture has the younger man mewling and arching into John's strong chest. The vest that hugs to Rambo's chest so tightly, the Matokan warrior plays with the hem of it, revealing more and more of the soldier's bronzed skin. Compliant, John wriggles out of his vest and Cheyenne bites his lip, palming down his muscle-bound torso.

It doesn't take them long to move to the bed, John sat at the head with Cheyenne in his lap, trailing kisses from his mouth down his throat.  
"Mmnnn..." The soft, rumbling groans that leave the soldier have the Matokan smiling against his skin. There's scars all over; pale, puckered cuts and lines of burned skin. The younger man takes care to lavish kisses and licks over every single one. Rambo keeps one hand in the warrior's hair and another on his hip, holding him steady even though he's also losing his patience. His skin tastes smoky and sweet and Cheyenne can't get enough, hands moving down to map out the soldier's large body. Gently, he pops the button on John's combat pants, looking up -- as if asking for permission -- before slowly pushing them down his muscular thighs. In his boxer briefs, the soldier's straining against the material, his body reacting all too easily to Cheyenne's gentle, tentative touches.


End file.
